"There is a message for you upstairs," she said, jerking her head toward the narrow staircase. "It came from a dark young fellow - he looked somewhat like you. He wouldn't leave a word with me. Just asked where to leave a message."
"Dark fellow? Damon?" Elena asked.
Stefan shook his head. "What would he want to be leaving me messages for?"
He left Elena with Mrs. Flowers and hastened up the crazy, zigzagging stairs. At the top he found a piece of paper stuffed under the door.
It was a Thinking of You card, sans envelope. Stefan, who knew his brother, doubted that it had been paid for - with money, at least. Inside, in heavy black felt-tipped pen, were the words:
DON'T NEED THIS.
THOUGHT ST. STEFAN MIGHT.
MEET ME TONIGHT AT THE TREE
WHERE THE HUMANS CRASHED.
NO LATER THAN 4:30A.M .
I'LL GIVE YOU THE SCOOP.
D.
That was all...except for a Web address.
Stefan was about to throw the note in the wastebasket when curiosity assailed him. He turned on the
computer, directed it to the proper website, and watched. For a while, nothing happened. Then very dark gray letters on a black screen appeared. To a human, it would have appeared to be a completely blank screen. To vampires, with their higher visual acuity, the gray on black was faint but clear.
Tired of that lapis lazuli?
Want to take a vacation in Hawaii?
Sick of that same old liquid cuisine?
Come and visit Shi no Shi.
Stefan started to close the page, but something stopped him. He sat and stared at the inconspicuous little ad beneath the poem until he heard Elena at the door. He quickly closed the computer and went to take the picnic basket from her. He said nothing about the note or what he'd seen on the computer screen. But as the night went on, he thought more and more.
"Oh! Stefan, you'll break my ribs! You squeezed all my breath out!"
"I'm sorry. I just need to hold you."
"Well, I need to hold you, too."
"Thank you, angel."
Everything was quiet in the room with the high ceiling. One window was open, letting the moonlight through. In the sky, even the moon seemed to creep stealthily along, and the shaft of moonlight followed it on the hardwood floor.
Damon smiled. He had had a long, restful day and now he meant to have an interesting night.
Getting through the window wasn't quite as easy as he'd expected. When he arrived as a huge, glossy black crow, he was expecting to balance on the windowsill and change to human form to open the window. But the window had a trap on it - it was linked by Power to one of the sleepers inside. Damon puzzled over it, preening himself viciously, afraid to put any tension on that thin link, when something arrived beside him in a flutter of wings.
It looked like no respectable crow ever registered in the sighting book of any ornithologist. It was sleek enough, but its wings were tipped with scarlet, and it had golden, shining eyes.
Shinichi?Damon asked.
Who else?came the reply as a golden eye fixed on him.I see you have a problem. But it can be fixed. I'll deepen their sleep so that you can cut the link.
Don't!Damon said reflexively.If you so much as touch either of them, Stefan will -
The answer came in soothing tones.Stefan's just a boy, remember? Trust me. You do trust me, don't you?
And it worked out exactly as the demonically colored bird said it would. The sleepers inside slept more deeply, and then more deeply still.
A moment later the window opened, and Damon changed form and was inside. His brother and...and she...the one he alwayshad to watch...shewas lying asleep, her golden hair lying across the pillow and lying across his brother's body.
Damon tore his eyes away. There was a medium-sized, slightly outdated computer on the desk in the corner. He went over to it and without the slightest hesitation turned it on. The two on the bed never stirred.
Files...aha.Diary. How original a name. Damon opened it and examined the contents.
Dear Diary,
I woke up this morning and - marvel of marvels - I'mmeagain. I walk, talk, drink, wet the bed (well, I haven't yet, but I'm sure I could if I tried).
I'm back.
It's been one hell of a journey.
I died, dearest Diary, I really died. And then I died as a vampire. And don't expect me to describe what happened either time - believe me; you had to be there.
The important thing is that I was gone, but now I'm back again - and, oh, dear patient friend who has been keeping my secrets since kindergarten...I am so glad to be back.
On the debit side, I can never live with Aunt Judith or Margaret again. They think I'm "resting in peace" with the angels. On the credit side, I can live with Stefan.
This is the compensation for all I've been through - I don't know how to compensate those who went to the very gates of Hell forme. Oh, I'm tired and - might as well say it - eager for a night with my darling.
I'm very happy. We had a fine day, laughing and loving, and watching each of my friends' faces as they saw mealive! (And notinsane, which I gather is how I have been acting the past few days. Honestly, you'd think Great Spirits Inna Sky could have dropped me off with my marbles all in order. Oh, well.)
Love ya,
Elena
Damon's eyes skimmed over these lines impatiently. He was looking for something quite different. Ah. Yes. This was more like it:
My dearest Elena,
I knew you would look here sooner or later. I hope you never have to see it at all. If you're reading this, then Damon is a traitor, or something else has gone terribly wrong.
A traitor? That seemed a little strong, Damon thought, hurt, but also burning with an intense desire to get on with his task.
I'm going out to the woods to talk to him tonight - if I don't come back, you'll know where to start asking questions.